Author's notes: The following story takes place soon after the conclusion of Legacy
of the Force.
This is the 10th Star Wars story that I have written. Please leave me feedback, public or through email. (ahandcuffgirl at yahoo dot com)

And
just so you know, Jaina Solo is now Imperial Prostitute SX-51472, or
"Seventy-Two" for short.

Twenty
minutes later, Seventy-Two was in Admiral Garowyn's quarters, helping
her out of her uniform. Chief Daala was in her luxury suite on
board, under the Mandalorians' and her guards' protection.
Seventy-Two was surprised when Admiral Garowyn told her that she
could go back to her room without pleasuring her.

Five
minutes later Seventy-Two was pressing her crotch against the scanner
outside her room. Since Syal wasn't there, she could do what she was
used to  which was using her pussy as a piece of Imperial
equipment. Inside, Syal was sitting on the compact pouf-couch,
watching a holomovie. She was wearing her uniform pants and
undershirt. Her boots were sitting next to the bed, while her
uniform top was lying on it.

Seventy-Two
stood dumbfounded for a moment. Oh
yeah, she thinks I'm Jaina,
Seventy-Two thought. “Having fun?” she answered. I
guess I'll have to get used to being called Jaina again for awhile,
she thought with regret as she pulled off her uniform cap and laid it
on its shelf.

“Just
relaxing,” Syal replied with a wave of her hand.

“Great,”
Seventy-Two said as she carefully pulled off her spectacles and ear
pieces, and set them on their charging points. Then she sat down
next to Syal on the pouf couch.

“You're
not going to change?” Syal asked her quizzically.

This
was the only room on board the entire Admiral
Daala,
or anywhere as far as she knew, that Seventy-Two could take off her
uniform on her own. Except her chastity belt, that was. Usually
when Seventy-Two got off duty she immediately stripped off most of
her uniform. The only problem was, she didn't think Syal was quite
ready to see her corset and chastity belt.

“Nah,
I'm fine,” she replied confidently.

Syal
looked at her, obviously confused. “You're not even going to
take off your jacket?” she asked.

“Not
right now,” Seventy-Two replied with a smile.

“Well
then, let me see your chrono and comlink,” Syal said with a
conspiratorial smile.

“Sure,”
Seventy-Two replied with her own smile as she pulled her sleeve back
and pressed the nearly invisible release on the edge of her chrono
cuff. As Seventy-Two took off her comlink, Syal closed the chrono
around her own wrist. Then she passed Syal the comlink, and she
closed it around her other wrist.

Syal
took a few moments to inspect the chrono and comlink, and her wrists
in them. Then, strangely, she brought them together, with the
comlink grill and chrono window facing out. “Do they lock
together?” Syal asked earnestly.

Seventy-Two
glanced at the door to her closet, where there were several sets of
shackles, binders, and stun-cuffs. She already missed the feeling of
durasteel around her wrists. “Those don't,” she answered
carefully, seeing if Syal would pick up the implication.

She
didn't. The two spent a little while watching the holoscreen, and
chatting. Usually at this time, Seventy-Two was busy getting ready
for one of the Daala's
Officers to come by for a visit, but while Syal was visiting, the
ship's other ProCorps troopers were taking on her duties. With Chief
of State Daala visiting, Seventy-Two hadn't made it to the gym today
though.

“Hey,
I got to hit the gym,” Seventy-Two said nonchalantly.

“Great,
can I come?” Syal asked happily.

Seventy-Two
realized she had a problem. In the gym, there would be no way to
hide her chastity belt. Then there was the matter of her changing,
and Syal seeing her tattoos. She was pretty sure she could keep her
from seeing her tats, though. Sooner or later, Syal would see more
of what she wore underneath her uniform, and out of it.

“Sure,
but one thing,” she said seriously.

“Okay,”
Syal answered.

“You
have to promise not to tell anyone, especially my parents, what you
see while you're here.”

Syal
looked at her a couple of seconds. “So I guess I'm about to
find out why Chief Daala specifically told me that all details of
your Imperial duties are classified, and explicitly instructed me not
to talk about them to anyone, especially your parents,” she
replied.

In
the observation gallery, Chief Daala had made in clear that she was
already well informed about the ProCorps. Syal's statement only
confirmed that for Seventy-Two. “I don't know about all that,
I just want you promise me,” she responded.

“I
promise,” Syal said with a sincere smile.

“Okay,”
Seventy-Two replied as she unzipped her uniform jacket, revealing her
collar and corset.

Syal's
mouth fell open in amazement. “What is that?”
she asked after a few staring a few seconds.

“My
corset,” Seventy-Two replied with an expectant smile.

“I
can see that. I meant why are you wearing it underneath your
uniform? Frakk, why are you wearing it at all?” Syal answered,
still dumbfounded.

Because
the Empire likes its prostitutes to be trim,
was the first answer than came to Seventy-Two's mind. “It's
part of my uniform,” she replied simply.

“That
is part of your uniform?” Syal asked with a wave of her hand to
encompass both the corset and collar.

“Yes,”
Seventy-Two replied matter-of-factly.

“So
you have to wear it all day?”

“Yes,
and I even wear it out of uniform. I love them both,” she said
with a bright smile.

Now
Syal frowned slightly. “Does it hurt?” she asked with
concern.

Seventy-Two
broke out in a grin. “Not a bit. In fact, I need to move down
to a smaller size. This one is almost too big for me now.”

Syal
looked down at her waist. “I just thought you had lost
weight.”

“Well,
I have, too. My Imperial diet is a bit more strict, and a lot better
for me, then what I ate under the Galactic Alliance. My waist is
down to almost fifty-five centimeters though,” Seventy-Two said
proudly.

“Wow!”
Syal replied in awe. “How small are you trying to get?”

“Well,
I'm not really trying to get 'small'. The ProCorps has strict
appearance standards, is all,” Seventy-Two explained.

Syal
just shook her head. “What's up with the collar then?”
she asked.

Seventy-Two
reached up and pressed the release on the back of her collar. Then
she pulled it off her neck and shoulders. “Part of the
uniform,” she replied. Then she remembered that she would want
to wear her collar to the gym, and thus would need to give Syal a
little more explanation.

“I
have another collar I wear off duty,” she added as she leaned
over and pulled her favorite collar out of her night stand drawer.

This
collar was five millimeters thick, and seventy tall. It was black
durasteel, had a hinge at either side, and shut at the back of her
neck. As she closed it around her neck, the hinges became virtually
invisible.

At
the front of the collar was a small D-ring, with a larger O-ring
hanging from it. Along either side of the collar was Seventy-Two's
official serial number, SX-51472,
in easy-to-read silver lettering.

Syal
watched her close the collar around her neck in stunned silence.
“What's SX-51472 mean?” she finally asked.

“It's
my Imperial serial number,” Seventy-Two replied happily.

“Uh-uh,”
Syal said as she nodded her head. “And what's this for?”
she asked as she reached up and flicked the leash ring.

“Decoration,”
Seventy-Two replied after a moments' hesitation.

“Right,”
Syal answered, clearly unconvinced. “What other surprises do
you have for me?”

Seventy-Two
had quite a few surprises for her, but she didn't think she was ready
for some of them. “I do have something else to show you, but
let me change into my gym outfit first,” she said as she got up
and walked towards her closet.

“Okay,
but what about me?” Syal asked.

“They'll
have something for you to wear there,” Seventy-Two answered as
she closed the closet door behind herself. Most of the time she
liked to change at the gym, where she had a chance of showing off
some. This time though, she didn't want Syal to see her tattoos, so
she opted to change in her closest.

First
Seventy-Two took off her boots and jodhpurs. Since the laundry chute
was out in her room, she had to leave them on the closet floor for
now. Then she took off the gleaming durasteel corset, and set it on
its shelf.

Next
Seventy-Two pulled her gym outfit out of another drawer. She pulled
the skimpy black sports bra on first. Across the right breast was
her serial number in small silver letters. The bottom of the bra
stopped about a centimeter below her breasts.

Then
she pulled the skimpy tight black hot pants on. The top of the hot
pants stopped at the bottom of her chastity belt's waist piece,
leaving it completely visible. The outline of the rest of the
chastity belt was obvious as well.

The
bottom hem came down less than a centimeter past her toned
butt-cheeks. Her serial number was printed vertically down each
side. The words Imperial
Property,
in much larger silver letters, was printed across her butt-cheeks,
lined up perfectly with her tattoo underneath.

On
the front of the shorts was the Imperial Emblem, also in silver, and
lined up with her tattoo underneath. The words Imperial
Prostitute,
followed by her serial number, were underneath it.

Working
out at the gym was practically the only time Seventy-Two didn't wear
a corset. It was important for a ProCorps trooper to maintain
maximum flexibility.

Short
black socks and black gym shoes completed the outfit. The top of the
socks came to the top of the shoes, and had her serial number printed
along the outside of the top edge, in very small letters. All that
was missing were her chrono and comlink, which Syal was still
wearing.

Seventy-Two
walked back out into her room and quickly but casually closed the
closet door behind her, hoping that Syal wouldn't see anything too
incriminating. While she was changing, Syal had put her own uniform
back on. Seventy-Two wondered how long it would take Syal to notice
the chastity belt.

Not
very long at all, was the answer.

“What
is that around your waist?” Syal asked after a quick scan of
her outfit.

“My
chastity belt,” Seventy-Two replied with a contented smile.

Syal
stared at it for several seconds. “Whatever,” she
finally said, shaking her head in disbelief. “Are you wearing
the collar to the gym too?”

“Of
course,” Seventy-Two replied.

Syal
shook her head again. “Whatever. Let's go.”

“I
need my chrono and comlink back first,” Seventy-Two told her.

“Oh
yeah,” Syal replied absently. “I couldn't get them off.”

Seventy-Two
showed Syal how to take off the chrono and comlink cuffs, and put
them back on her own wrists.

“I
see you like your serial number,” Syal commented as she noticed
it on Seventy-Two's top and one side of her shorts.

“Very
much,” Seventy-Two replied sincerely. “Ready?”
She carefully stood with her profile mostly towards Syal, hoping that
she wouldn't spot her title, Imperial Prostitute, on the front of her
shorts.

“You
are really going to wear that collar to the gym?” Syal asked
with a puzzled expression.

“I
wear it practically all the time off duty,” Seventy-Two
explained.

“Whatever,”
Syal said resignedly again.

After
a couple of seconds to make sure Syal didn't have any more questions,
Seventy-Two turned and started to walk out of the room.

“What
the frakk!” Syal said loudly, almost shouting, from behind her.

A
startled Seventy-Two turned back to what was the matter now.

“Why
does it say Imperial Property on the back of your shorts?” Syal
asked incredulously.

Because
I'm Imperial Property, and it matches my tattoo,
Seventy-Two thought. But she couldn't tell Syal that. At least not
yet. “Because the shorts are Imperial Property,” she
answered  truthfully, if misleadingly.

Syal
stared at her a couple of seconds. “Your top doesn't say
Imperial Property,” she pointed out.

Seventy-Two
admired her observational skills, even if they were annoying right
now. “The Empire issued them to me,” she said, again
both truthfully and misleading. “I just wear them,” she
added. “Can we go now?”

The
two women left for the gym. Even though the entire ship knew that
Chief of State Daala was on board, Syal's Galactic Alliance uniform
drew some looks. Seventy-Two however, drew stares and catcalls.

“Well,
your outfit is definitely good for Morale,” Syal said as the
stepped into a turbolift.

“That's
the idea,” Seventy-Two responded happily. “Hopefully
they'll want to ... set up an appointment to talk about their
morale,” she added.

Syal
nodded her head thoughtfully. “Yeah, hopefully,” she
agreed absently.

Finally
the two arrived at the gym reserved for the ProCorps. Seventy-Two
waved her comlink near the sensor for access, then escorted Syal into
the changing room. There were lockers, but they didn't have doors on
the front of them. ProCorps troopers didn't steal, at least from
each other or the Empire, which was the same thing. Seventy-Two
walked over to one of the guest lockers, and pulled out the workout
gear that the Empire had provided for Syal.

“There's
no way I'm wearing THAT!” Syal exclaimed almost immediately.

Seventy-Two
wasn't very surprised by her reaction. The outfit was almost exactly
like her own, except the sports bra, shorts, socks and shoes were
gray instead of black. There were no serial numbers on it, but the
words Imperial
Property
were printed across the back of the shorts in black letters.

“It's
regulation workout gear for guests,” Seventy-Two explained.
She left out the part about it just being regulation for guests in
the ProCorps' dedicated gym, and that she could go to another gym,
and get something a lot more to her liking. After all, she thought
Syal would look good in the outfit.

Syal
looked towards the door, and the gym itself. “Don't you have
any that don't say Imperial
Property across
the ass?”

“That's
all that's bothering you? Don't worry about that, everyone in the
gym will have it on the back of their shorts,” Seventy-Two
responded. That was true, since only ProCorps troopers and specially
cleared guests like Syal had access to the gym.

Syal
seemed to think about that for several seconds. “Fine then.
But this better not get back to my parents,” she said as she
started taking off her own uniform.

“Who
would tell them?” Seventy-Two asked rhetorically. She didn't
mention that the ProCorps gym was fully monitored. Or that the live
view was available for the entire ship, as a sort of advertisement
for the ProCorps troopers on board. At least a couple of hundred
Imperial personnel would see Syal's workout, including her outfit.

A
few minutes later, they walked out of the changing room and into the
gym. Several other ProCorps troopers were already there, working out
strenuously. True to Seventy-Two's word, the phrase Imperial
Property
was prominently displayed on the back of all of the visible shorts.
Seventy-Two also knew that all of them were wearing their chrono and
comlink cuffs, and most of them a collar of some sort.

While
a couple glanced their way, none of them even so much as nodded their
heads or waved at their fellow Imperial Prostitute. Seventy-Two
didn't hold it against them. When she was working out, she didn't
like distractions either.

First
Seventy-Two and Syal spent ten minutes stretching. Syal was
surprised at how limber Seventy-Two was. For the ProCorps, though,
it was only expected that she could put both legs behind her head
without using her arms. Seventy-Two made sure to wink at the
holocameras as she did as well.

After
they were properly stretched out, they headed for the treadmills.
All the equipment was computer controlled, and linked to the sensors
embedded in the ProCorps troopers' crotches. However, like the
sensor on her quarters, her comlink would work with these now.
Seventy-Two waved her right wrist over the treadmill's sensor, and
the treadmill automatically set itself for her.

Syal
noticed what she had done, and asked about it.

“Oh,
when I wave my comlink over the sensor, the treadmill will
automatically set itself for me,” Seventy-Two explained. She
didn't explain how the computer controlled her workout, and would
report her to Admiral Garowyn if she didn't meet her time or reps.

“That's
what I figured. All of ours do that too,” Syal replied.

Even
from the warm-up jog, it was obvious that Seventy-Two outclassed
Syal, who was in excellent shape herself.
Less
than five minutes into the twenty minute run, Seventy-Two could tell
that Syal had stopped trying to keep up. After the treadmill came
the weight work. Seventy-Two had to scan herself at each piece of
equipment. Today was upper body work. And abs. Every day was abs.
Since the Empire didn't want muscular prostitutes, Seventy-Two kept
the weights light, for tone instead of muscle building.

After
the upper body work, they moved on to the swoops. Once again
Seventy-Two left Syal eating her exhaust; at least virtually. Ten
minutes later Seventy-Two's exercise swoop came to a stop, and Syal
followed along. Aerobics was next.

Since
ProCorps troopers worked out at all hours of the day and night, there
was no large studio with twenty or more students in it. Instead
there were a dozen smaller rooms, each designed for one student, but
just big enough for two. One wall was covered by a two-dimensional
holoscreen. As Seventy-Two and Syal entered, the holoscreen lit up,
and a toned human female instructor appeared on it.

Seventy-Two
waved her comlink over the sensor by the door, and the instructor
immediately started Seventy-Two's personal, intense regimen.

Half-an-hour
later they finished the aerobics, and the workout.

“The
chastity belt and collar don't chafe or anything?” Syal asked,
still catching her breath from the aerobics.

“Not
at all, the chastity belt has a plastex coating on the inside, and
the collar is ultra-smooth,” Seventy-Two replied as they did
their cool-down stretches.

“I
still think it's strange to wear them working out,” Syal
commented.

Seventy-Two
smiled back at her. “Tell you what, I've got another collar.
Why don't you try it tomorrow, and see how you like it?” she
suggested.

Syal
looked at her collar for several seconds, deep in thought. “I'll
think about it,” she eventually replied.

They
finished their cool-down stretching and headed for the refreshers.
As Seventy-Two started to peel off her hot pants, she realized that
she had a problem. If Syal didn't notice her tattoos in the changing
room, then there was no way she could miss them in the gang-shower.

“Frakk,”
Seventy-Two said as she reached for her sports bra on the bench.

“What's
wrong,” Syal asked as she laid her own sports bra down.

“I
forgot, it's my turn to clean the machines,” Seventy-Two
replied as she pulled the sports bra back on.

“They're
not self-cleaning?” Syal asked, puzzled.

They
were, Seventy-Two just needed an excuse not to shower or change with
Syal. “I've got to um  double check the settings and
stuff,” she replied lamely. “It'll take about ten
minutes or so, you go ahead and jump in the 'fresher,” she said
as she headed back towards the gym.

“Whatever,”
Syal replied, shaking her head in disbelief.

Seventy-Two
went back into the gym, and climbed back onto the exercise swoop.
Instead of waving her comlink over the sensor and letting the
computer control her extra session, she just started pedaling at an
easy pace.

As
she was pedaling, Seventy-Two wondered what Syal would do if she knew
that the gang-'fresher also had holocameras in it, and that they were
also available to the entire ship. Then she wondered if Chief Daala
and the other Galactic Alliance personal staying on board would
discover this, and perhaps watch her in the 'fresher.

Ten
minutes later, Seventy-Two climbed back off the swoop, and headed
back towards the changing room. Syal was out of the 'fresher and
putting her Galactic Alliance uniform back on.

“If
you want to go ahead and head back to my room, I won't mind,”
Seventy-Two encouraged her as she pulled off her shoes and socks.
She set the former in her locker, and tossed the later into the
laundry chute.

Usually
ProCorps troopers stripped down to their chastity belts and whatever
hardware they were wearing in the changing room, and strutted into
the 'fresher naked. Some, Seventy-Two included, even kept plastex
platform shoes in their lockers just to shower
in  transparisteel-clear, with fifteen-centimeter-high heels.

“Na,
I'll wait. I don't have anything to do,” Syal replied.

“You
sure?” Seventy-Two asked hopefully as she peeled off her sports
bra and tossed it into the laundry chute as well.

“I'm
fine,” she insisted.

“Alright
then,” Seventy-Two said as she pulled her clean hot pants and a
towel out of her locker. While she was in there, she surreptitiously
pushed her clear plastex 'fresher shoes to the back of the locker,
hoping that Syal wouldn't notice them.

Since
she couldn't convince Syal to leave, however, Seventy-Two had to
strip down in the 'fresher itself. She tossed her towel over her
shoulder, and went into the 'fresher.

Seventy-Two
tried to shower as quickly as she could. She didn't want any other
ProCorps troopers to come in to change, and for Syal to see their
tattoos. She would inevitably ask Seventy-Two if she had the
Imperial Emblem tattooed over her cunt, and Imperial
Property
on her ass.

It
wasn't that lying was a problem for her, it was just that Seventy-Two
didn't want the subject to come up until she felt like Syal was
ready.

Six
minutes later, Seventy-Two walked back into the changing room, still
patting herself dry with the towel. She didn't see any ProCorps
troopers around, nor was Syal ranting about tattoos, so Seventy-Two
assumed none had come in while she was in the 'fresher.

Seventy-Two
tossed her towel and sweaty hot pants into the laundry chute. Then
she picked up her fresh sports bra out of her locker and pulled it
on, followed by her socks and gym shoes. As soon as Seventy-Two was
dressed, they left the gym.

Once
they arrived back in her quarters, Seventy-Two stepped back into her
closet to put her corset back on. Instead of her gleaming durasteel
uniform corset, she chose her second favorite, a black nerfhide one.
While she was at it, she changed out of her gym shoes and into a pair
of strappy black fifteen centimeter platform heels, to relax in.

“Wow,
I guess you were serious about wearing that out of your uniform,”
Syal said when Seventy-Two came back into the room.

“So
what's next?” Syal asked as she took her boots off and set them
against the wall. Her uniform top was already lying on the bed.

Seventy-Two
wasn't used to having free time. Usually she spent every waking
minute as Admiral Garowyn's personal assistant, working out, or
getting fucked. And in the Imperial Academy she had been trained to
only need a few hours of sleep a night, so that was quite a bit of
time awake.

The
two ended up watching the holoscreen and chatting awhile, then went
to sleep. Syal had wanted to sleep on the pouf couch, but
Seventy-Two was able to convince her to share the over-sized bed.
Syal was very surprised when Seventy-Two climbed into bed wearing her
collar, corset, and heels, not to mention the chastity belt and
chrono and comlink. She was still wearing her short shorts as well
too.

“I
like wearing them to bed,” Seventy-Two replied. That was true
for everything except the chrono and comlink cuffs. Usually
Seventy-Two slept with her wrists cuffed behind her back or to
something, and a spreader bar between her legs.

For
Seventy-Two, it was hard to sleep without most of it. “Easily,”
she replied.

Syal
slowly looked at her from head to toe, and back again. “Well,
if it makes you happy,” she finally conceded as she shook her
head in puzzlement.

Seventy-Two
had secretly hoped Syal would sleep naked, but she crawled into bed
wearing her black undershirt and panties that she had been wearing
underneath her uniform all day. After turning off the light,
Seventy-Two followed her. Once she was safely underneath the
blanket, Seventy-Two pulled off her hot pants and dropped them to the
floor. Then, just like she had been told, she reached over and hit
the play button on the room's audio system, starting the music that
had been specially prepared for Syal's visit.

Syal
looked at her with a raised eyebrow, silently questioning the music.

Seventy-Two
smiled back at her. “It'll help you relax, and discover your
true self, like my spectacles and earpieces do for me,” she
explained proudly.

Seventy-Two
just smiled politely. The Empire had shown her the truth, allowed
her to discover her true self, and given her the happiness that the
Rebels had always denied to Jaina Solo. “Just relax, and go to
sleep,” she encouraged her.
It
was very soothing music. Syal opened her mouth to protest again, but
no words came out. Instead, she just drifted off to sleep.

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